“Nice to see you two hard at work while the rest of us were out in the scorching sun all day. Did you figure out where we should be digging?” Ethan asked, brushing away the dirt covering his khaki cargos and light blue hiking shirt.
“Um . . .” Ford and Corrie looked at each other, their eyes asking how they should respond. “Not yet?” Ford said, as a question and not a fact.
Corrie snickered and Ford had to cover his mouth.
“Glad to see you’re getting along, at least,” Ethan said, somewhat sarcastically, but the sentiment was sincere. Corrie cast him a knowing glance, though, hoping he would understand.
“Oh yeah, we’re a couple of peas and a carrot,” Ford said.
“Is that some sort of double entendre?” Ethan wrinkled his brow, and then his eyes darted toward the bottle of rye sitting between them. “Are you guys drunk?”
They looked at each other again. “Maybe?” Corrie responded.
“Are you kidding me? We’ve been out there all damn day and the two of you have been getting wasted?”
“Hey, we haven’t been drinking the entire time,” Ford protested, though drunk protests were never all that convincing.
And, as hilarious as the situation was, from Ethan’s perspective, it probably wasn’t quite so amusing. If only he could understand the breakthrough she’d had with Ford, though. Don’t worry, Ethan. It was still productive!
“You two are unbelievable,” Ethan continued. “One second you’re about to bite each other’s heads off, and now this? I mean, I love digging around in the jungle as much as the rest of you, but at some point, I would like to go home. And preferably go home having actually made a discovery, not just reburying mistakes.”
Ouch.
Sure, Ethan might have wanted her to talk to Ford, but she had to remember that the rest of them had been there for much longer than she had. She’d been on many long digs, and they were great when you were finding things. Not so much when you came up empty-handed. And usually on the digs she went on, they knew where to look. This dig? Well, it was like a needle in a haystack, and they’d pricked their finger hard—only to realize they were looking in the wrong haystack altogether.
“I mean, jeez, Ford,” Ethan continued, folding his arms. “We’re going to run out of money eventually. And when the investor comes demanding answers about what we were doing the whole time, what are we going to do? Hide in a cave?”
A cave?
“Wait!” Corrie said, putting up her hand to stop Ethan from talking.
A cave.
“What is—” Ford started. But Corrie cut him off, placing her hand over his mouth, though not without noticing how soft his lips were.
“No. Shh.” Her hands were outstretched as if needing to silence a room. Cave. Cave.
She grabbed her dissertation, still lying on the platform next to her, and started riffling through the pages. Searching for a passage from Mendoza’s notes.
There. She found it. Ford had even circled it.
“Look,” she said, scooting closer to Ford to show him the passage. Their thighs pressed against each other’s and she paused for a moment, feeling the heat from his body. “Here,” she said, turning back to the page and ignoring the hitch in her breath. “Mendoza talks about what Chimalli had told him about fleeing the city. They walked for more than three days and then hid in a cold, damp cave near the river for many days, the cave concealed by, quote, ‘nature’s curtain.’ And once they thought they were safe, they settled in the bowl nearby, but whenever they heard noise, they’d run to the cave for safety.”
“That’s what we’re looking for?” Ford asked.
“Yes.”
“But what if Mendoza was wrong?” Ethan asked. “Like Ford said last night, his version has been widely disregarded.”
“Yeah, Corrie. I mean, as much as it pains me to say it, I want you to be right, but I also don’t want to be wandering around aimlessly for another who knows how many months,” Ford said. “We’ve already wasted enough time.”
He said it, not me.
“Okay . . . but what if Mendoza was right?” Corrie asked. “And we won’t be wandering aimlessly. We have specific landmarks to look for: the river, a cave, and a depression in the shape of a bowl. Here . . .” she said, jumping up and running into the tent, toward the map unfurled on Ford’s desk.
She smoothed her hand over the worn paper, circling around the desk to get her bearings. Her finger traced along the topo lines, searching for their location, as Ford and Ethan finally joined her inside, though not with nearly the same amount of energy that she displayed. But this felt right. Like she was onto something.
Her hair fell in her face, obstructing her view of the map, and she glanced at the guys walking toward her.
“Hey, Ford, can you reach inside that front zipper pocket on the purple bag over there and grab me a hair tie?” she asked.
“Uh-uh. I’ve learned my lesson when it comes to reaching in your bag,” he said.
And Ethan raised his brow. “Is that another double entendre?”
“Gross, Ethan,” Corrie said. “And how dare you compare my vagina to a bag,” she said with a cocky tilt of her head.
Ford put his head in his hands. “Oh my God, if we were all actual coworkers, we’d be fired right now. I’m pretty sure this conversation violates at least half a dozen HR policies.”
“Then good thing we’re not. Now, can you please grab me a hair tie? Don’t worry, the vibrator is in the other bag,” Corrie said with a smirk.
Ethan burst out laughing. “I’m glad you haven’t changed, Corrie.”
Little did he know, Barney had already made an appearance. But finally Ford did as he was asked, peeking into the zippered pouch before diving in and emerging with one black rubber band. He handed the tie to Corrie with his arm outstretched, and when she took it, her finger lightly grazed his.
A flicker flashed in his eye. The graze hadn’t been intentional, or at least she didn’t think it was intentional. Was it? Well, she didn’t have time to sort all that out at the moment. She twisted her hair into a messy bun, securing it in place with the rubber band. His gaze traveled from her hair, to her face, and along her now-bare neck before returning to hers. Something had changed between them over the last few hours.
“So what are you thinking?” Ethan asked, stealing her attention from Ford.
What was she thinking? She was thinking about Ford and what it would be like to kiss him.
But . . . Ethan didn’t care about that.
So Corrie turned back to the map instead.
“Okay, we’re here. And the river, it’s here,” she said, running her index finger along the curved line. “According to these topos, we’ve got a few potential options. Here, here, and . . . here,” she said, pointing to each potential location on the map.
“What about over here?” Ethan asked, pointing to the eastern edge of the Lacandon Jungle.
She shook her head. “No, that’s too far. Mendoza only made it just past San Lorenzo.”
“Yeah, and we only have permission to dig within these boundaries,” Ford said, tracing his finger along a heavy black line outlining their limits. Luckily, the sites Corrie selected were still within the borders. “This is the extent of the investor’s land. Anything beyond this line will require new government and landowner approval.”